


The Man You Deserve

by Rheynin



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, low level angst, soft Nick Valentine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheynin/pseuds/Rheynin
Summary: Jet Harding’s got it bad. Nick Valentine is the first man she’s felt anything for since her husband was shot and killed protecting their son back in the vault. It’s possible Nick feels something for her, too, but will he let his insecurities get in the way of their happy ending?
Relationships: Ellie Perkins & Nick Valentine, Female Sole Survivor & Piper Wright, Female Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine, Nick Valentine/Female Sole Survivor, Nick Valentine/Original Female Character(s), Nick Valentine/Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor & Nick Valentine, Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated explicit for future chapters.

“Hey, Nick.” Jet perched herself on the edge of his desk, reflexively taking the arched back pinup pose she often did in these circumstances. “Got any leads?”

He shook his head. “None that matter. Since you took down the Institute it’s been awfully quiet. Guess maybe they had a hand in more than we thought. Either that, or everyone suddenly got a lot less paranoid.”

He gave her the shy, flirtatious smirk that was reserved only for her as she took his chin in her hand, planting a kiss in the air near his nose. From where she sat across the room, Ellie did her best to hide a smile. The two of them had been dancing around an obvious attraction for months, since well before the destruction of the Institute. But without that looming fear, and the need to rescue her son, it had been bubbling over more and more often. She knew that before long, one of them was going to say something. That was why anytime Jet showed up, Ellie found someplace else to be as soon as possible. She gathered her sweater and keys in her arm, bidding them both goodbye, but they barely glanced her way, too involved in staring into each other’s eyes.

As Nick looked up at her, Jet smiled shyly, running a finger across the ragged edge of his cheek. If he’d had blood, he’d have blushed at the gesture, particularly with the way she was biting against her bottom lip. She leaned towards him, and suddenly he was entirely too aware of the large, soft mounds threatening to spill from her shirt. Christ, he wasn’t even human, how the hell did the sight of her affect him so much?

“Hey, Nick? How come we never do anything together?”

“I’d have thought traipsing across the commonwealth together, rescuing people and killing ferals and supermutants fell squarely under the heading of ‘doing something together’.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Nick.” She picked up his tie, straightening it and letting her finger trail against the buttons of his shirt. “Something fun. Just the two of us.”

“Well, doll, times being what they are, there’s not much fun to be had. Not for someone like me, anyway. Alcohol doesn’t exactly agree with my circuits.”

“You don’t need alcohol to have fun.” She leaned across him and flipped on the radio, finding a station that played soft, slow music, then hopped off his desk. He turned in his chair to follow her movements, surprised as she slipped her hand into his good one and pulled him up. 

She lead him to a clear area of the office, putting his gnarled metal hand at her waist, then slipping her hand up to rest against his shoulder. The next thing he knew their bodies were pressed tightly against one another as she swayed against him, moving her hips to the rhythm of the music. Luckily, the previous Nick Valentine had been a pretty good dancer, but he was still having trouble keeping up. He kept getting distracted by little things, like the way her mouth curved up as she leaned against him, the way her hips pressed against him a little harder than strictly necessary. 

She hummed softly along with the music, a gentle sound that somehow made him feel like inside of him, circuits were coming loose. He’d been feeling like that a lot lately, around her. Though human feelings didn’t exactly translate well into circuitry, he had enough of Nick’s memories to know what was going on, and he cursed himself for it. It was stupid of him, getting feelings for a girl like her. She was flesh and blood, real, alive, and perfect. She deserved so much more.

When the song ended, neither of them pulled away. Instead, Jet started softly running her hand over his shoulder, feeling the planes of his body, the way it sat beneath his ratty detective coat. She traced a finger up the line of his neck, carefully avoiding the exposed metal, and then up and over his ear. In spite of his better judgement, he found himself pulling her closer, both hands on the curves her hips.

“Nick, can I tell you something?” Her voice was quiet, timid and shy in a way he’d never heard before. She sounded almost nervous.

“Of course, doll. You can tell me anything.” If he’d been human, his mouth would’ve been dry, his heart pounding. Instead, coolant ran through his body a little faster than normal.

Her eyes met his, and her mouth opened and closed without saying anything. Then, there it was. The phrase that he’d both longed to hear and dreaded more than anything else.

“I think I’m in love with you, Nick.”

He froze, his thoughts veering in two wildly different directions. In one, he swept her off her feet and into a deep kiss, which she returned hungrily. Then he lifted her and carried her to his bed, where he spent the entire night pleasuring her, making her wonder why she hadn’t confessed her feelings for this worn out old synth sooner. In the other, he let her go, politely explaining to her that, whatever either of them felt, it would never go anywhere. He was a synth, and not even an organic one. Every part of him was manufactured, not born, and he was already way past his warranty.

He chose the second option.

Then she started crying.

“Come on, Jet, be reasonable. I don’t have anything to offer you. I’m old, I’m artificial, hell, I might as well not be real.”

“You’re real enough to me. Real enough to hold me, to kiss me. Real enough that I fell in love with you.”

The tears in her eyes were killing him. “Jet, I . . . I’m not even equipped properly. I can’t give you what you want, what you need.”

“All I need is you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” She stepped over to him, taking his face in her hands. If he’d ever wanted to rip out his circuits, it was then. “Just tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for me, or not?”

Even as the words came out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back, to expose them for the lie they were.

“I’m a machine, a Jet. I don’t have feelings. All I have is echoes, memories of feelings that never belonged to me in the first place.”

She turned on her heel and ran, sobbing, out of the door.  



	2. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jet wishes she’d kept her mouth shut, Nick wishes he could be what she needs and deserves.

“He said what? Jesus, Nicky, have a little tact!”

Piper rubbed Jet’s back soothingly as she sobbed on the tiny couch in the Publik Occurrences office. As soon as she’d left the agency, she headed there, hoping her best friend could help ease the bruises on her heart. She felt like it had gone nine rounds with a deathclaw, and hadn’t exactly won. The worst part was that she’d been so certain he felt the same way. She’d had a crush on him for ages, almost since the first day she’d walked into his office. He reminded her so much of Nate- his easy charm, the way he made her feel safe and comfortable as soon as she walked in. Even the way he accepted her, everything about her, without dismissing any of it. 

She’d waited, of course. Although it had technically been more than a decade, the loss of Nate burned in her heart like it had been yesterday, which for her, it had been. There was so much going on, with finding Sean, and then finding out what a monster the Institute was, and all the factions in the commonwealth begging her to help. Nick had seemed like the only person willing to help her, without any worry about what he’d get out of it. She hadn’t let herself really explore her developing feelings until after she’d made it inside of the institute, when there was less up in the air and she could think more clearly. Even then, it hadn’t been often, at least at first. She’d unpack it a little bit at a time, letting her brain get used to the idea. Was it real, or just a trauma response, because he’d been the first person who’d helped her? Did she care for him, or the way he reminded her of Nate? 

When she’d resolved those questions, satisfied that she cared for him, really, in his own right, she’d started watching him. Flirting, when she could, playing into his banter with slightly suggestive replies. When she first learned about Jenny Land, she eased off, figuring that his heart belonged to her. Then, when they’d killed Eddie Winter, he’d been so . . . warm towards her. Trusting. Like he was opening up a part of himself to her he didn’t let others see. And when he found out he had a brother in Far Harbor, it was her that he turned to, confused, lost, and she’d given him the shelter of her arms until he could deal with it on his own.

That’s when she started thinking that, just maybe, the feelings weren’t one way only. He smiled at her in ways he didn’t smile for anyone else. He let her into his private thoughts, his insecurities. When she touched him, he leaned into it, and he’d practically let her sit on his lap if she wanted. Then there was the incident with the magazine. Oh, god, the magazine!

The two of them had been searching out a password that a contact in the Institute needed to get some synths out and free, but had been caught in a radstorm. If she’d been carrying more RadAway, she’d have toughed it out and kept going, but Nick insisted he really didn’t wanna see her go ghoul, and they’d taken shelter in an old bunker they’d found in an abandoned neighborhood. While she was relieving herself in the bunker’s tiny bathroom, she’d heard Nick calling out to her.

“Hey, doll? Uh, not to be rude or anything, but there’s a face on this magazine I founder under the bed that looks awfully familiar . . . .”

She’d come out to see him holding an old girlie magazine delicately between two metal fingers. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the girl on page nine is you . . . .”

She’d flipped the pages to get to it, and then started dying laughing. There she was, laid out on a velvet blanket and winking salaciously at the camera. Not a stitch of clothing on her, just the blanket tucked strategically between her legs as she arched her back to give a good view of her backside and her breasts.

“I guess you don’t know better, then, because that’s me, alright.”

The stunned look on Nick’s face was the best thing she’d ever seen. He just stood there, staring at the picture she’d laid out for god knows how long, until she’d asked him if he was alright. He absentmindedly answered in the affirmative, then sat down and wiped the back of his hand on his forehead, like he’d been sweating, even though he couldn’t. When he recovered his voice, he’d looked her up and down, then coughed.

“Well, you certainly know how to use your, ahem, asserts.”

She’d laughed and told him that, before marrying Nate, that’s what she’d done for a living.

“There’s probably a good twenty or thirty magazines out there with my photo in similar positions. I was never good enough for a cover, though.”

“Is that right? Huh. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

He’d rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then taken watch so she could get to sleep. Each time she’d woke up, he had the magazine open to her image, fingers running over the slick paper. When they’d gotten up to leave the next morning, she was certain she saw the lump of the magazine inside his overcoat.

All of that seemed so promising. That’s why she’d decided to take the chance and tell him how she felt. Now here she was with her heart broken into a million pieces, again. Because the second man in the world she’d ever loved had turned her down.

Meanwhile, Nick sat in his office, still staring at the door Jet had slammed behind her when she left. He’d screwed up, and he’d screwed up royally. It was like he’d shot at something he’d thought was a radroach only to find out it was a deathclaw, and he’d just pissed it off. Oh, and he was out of bullets.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her when he’d said his feelings were just memories of someone else’s. It was just the best way he could think of to describe it. Emotional feedback didn’t translate through circuitry so well, so he had to do his best to use Nick’s old memories to try and figure it out. But to say he didn’t have feelings? Well that was about as wrong as it got. He might not feel things the same way, but when he looked at her, with those big brown eyes, that long, dark hair, and those curves? It did something to him, deep inside of him. And he knew damn well that when he looked at the magazine photos of her he’d manage to scrounge up, if he were human, he’d be so aroused he couldn’t even think straight. Hell, he already was, he just didn’t have the equipment to show it.

That was a big part of the reason he thought she needed to fins someone else. She was a beautiful woman, the kinda girl any man would be crazy about. And she was so damn sexy that anyone with functional equipment between their legs wouldn’t be able to hide how much they wanted her, not when she looked at them like she looked at him. And she deserved that, to know she was wanted, to feel the desire she set alight, to receive and give pleasure in equal measure. That wasn’t something he could do. Sure, he knew there were things that could be done without certain parts of the anatomy, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same intimacy and connection. Besides, if he was honest? He wanted to be able to feel her the same way.

He sighed, slumping his shoulders and lighting a cigarette. This wasn’t a situation he’d be able to fix on his own. He needed a second opinion, and he was pretty sure he knew where to look.


	3. Discussions

Lacking a proper door, Nick rapped on the metal doorframe of the warehouse that Curie was using as a makeshift lab in Sanctuary.

“Knock knock. Got time to talk to a grizzled old private eye?”

Curie jumped up, clapping her hands together. “Monsieur Valentine! It is wonderful to see you. What brings you to me?”

“Well, Curie, I’m having a bit of a problem, and you’re the only one I could think of that might understand, having once been in a body that wasn’t exactly . . . . “

“Human?”

“Well,yeah. I mean, I’m probably closer to what you used to be than what you are now, and since you’ve had the experience of both, well, I thought maybe you could give me some insight. What do you know about . . . love?”

“I am afraid I do not understand the question. I know many things about love. The physical reactions in the body when you look at someone attractive, or someone who you feel very close to, the psychology and hormones that make one fall in love . . . or perhaps you are asking for techniques for sexual pleasure?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just, well, Jet stopped by the agency the other day, like she does, and she told me . . . she told me she’s in love with me.”

“Monsieur Valentine, that is wonderful! I hope the two of you shall be very happy together.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Curie.”

“Why ever not?”

“Well, look at me.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing at himself. “I’m not the kind of partner a beautiful girl like that deserves. I’m half torn apart, I’ve got a face I share with god knows how many other metal men out there- I’m not even sure I count as human any more than a damn toaster!”

“Do you think I am only as a toaster?”

“Well, no, of course not. But you’re different. At least there’s something organic to you. You grow, you bleed, you’re as good as a human being. I’m not any of those things. How could she ever be happy with me?”

“I think that is for her to decide. Do you not love her?”

“I’m not even sure I know what love is. All I’ve got are some private eye’s old memories, all tied to someone else. I feel . . . something. Tight, in my chest, when she smiles at me. I’d like to hold her, kiss her . . . maybe do more. But then, I can’t exactly, can I? Not built like this.”

“When I was in my previous body, I did not understand feelings well at all. It seemed like nonsense. I could not believe that there was something in humans that caused these strong reactions, beyond programming. But since I have my new body, it is . . . different. Everything is so much more! The color red is not just a bright spot to be labeled, different from blue, or yellow. It . . . means something, inside of me. I think you do understand, better than you think. But I also know, there is something in biology that is not in circuitry and wires.” She pursed her lips, looking at Nick and thinking. “Perhaps . . . perhaps they could do for you what they did for me.”

“A new body? Well, it’s certainly something to think about. I don’t even know if it’d be possible. Thanks, Curie. You’ve given me something to work on, at least.”

He started walking, turning the idea over and over in his mind. A new body, biosynthetic? One nearly as good as a human’s? Hell, it sounded perfect, and, logically, he couldn’t think of a reason it wouldn’t work. But they’d gotten lucky in finding one for Curie. Finding another seemed pretty damn unlikely, especially now that the Institute was done for. No need for mind wipes when there’s no one to run from. 

He was in Goodneighbor before he realized it, and brought the idea up with Dr Amari. She assured him that it was “absolutely possible”- if he could find a body. She knew of none, just as he’d expected. The railroad wasn’t in the business of anything but relocation nowadays, and there was little that would cause brain death without also killing the body. It would practically take a miracle for him to find one.

Well, he wasn’t about to give up that easily. If there was even a chance he could be the man Jet deserved, he was going to chase it. Luckily, he’d made a few contacts over the years. One of them was bound to know something, or have some other idea. If DiMA could convince one of his friends to volunteer to take a new identity to save an island, and he had all these memories of the institute still around, he’d be sure to figure something out.

“Nick- a new body? Are you certain this is what you want? We have plenty of parts, and we can fabricate more, should you wish to repair yourself, but-“

“I’ve got my reasons, DiMA. Just like you’ve had yours.”

“Certainly, Nick. But I can’t imagine what might possess you to discard the body you’ve had all these years, to take this risk . . . .”

Nick sighed. “Maybe you’ll think I’m crazy. Hell, I’m not sure I’m not. But there’s a girl. A real girl, flesh, and blood, and bone. And she loves me. She loves me just as I am, and that means a hell of a lot to me. But it’s not enough.” He paused, turning his back to the other synth for a moment. “I’ve spent two hundred years with the memories of someone else’s love. Beautiful, rich, and real. But not mine. And now, now I’ve got a chance to have that for myself, and I’d do anything for it. To feel it. The warmth of her skin, the softness of her lips, all of the things I can’t experience now, not really.”

“Nick. I . . . I understand. Give me some time.”

Three days later, he met with DiMA. They’d had every available person scanning through memories, trying to find something to help. Even Nick had been looking. But every day, they’d come up short. Until the last day.

It was barely anything, just a background conversation, whispered as he passed by. But it was clear, and it definitely referred to a secret vault somewhere, a failsafe the Institute had put in place years before, as they’d started on the first biosynthetics, judging by the time period. The problem was, they had no further information, nothing to point them in a direction at all. But it was more than he’d had when he started, and it gave him hope. 

He was halfway back from Far Harbor when it hit him. Virgil! The ex institute scientist he’d gone to see with Jet, back when they were trying to find a way inside. He’d worked in the bioengineering department, probably far enough back to remember, or at least to have heard rumors. 

It looked like he’d be headed back into the glowing sea.


	4. Compassion

As soon as Jet seemed calm enough to leave alone, Piper had asked Nat to keep an eye on her while she ran out for a minute. In any other circumstances, she’d have gone directly to Nick for help, but since Nick was part of the problem, she’d have to reach a bit farther out. She headed over to the former mayor’s office, where they kept the emergency radio.

Once the Institute had been destroyed, along with the Brotherhood, the Railroad and the Minutemen had gotten together and decided that it was safe enough to set up communication between the settlements. It would be faster than waiting on news from caravans, and could yield more detailed information than a smoke grenade or flare gun. It had take weeks to scavenge enough radios for the settlements and repair them all, but had already proved itself worth it. 

“This is Piper in DC. We got any friends of the General listening?”

A voice crackled through on the other end of the line.

“Roger that. This is Danse. What’s the issue?”

Piper dropped her head against the desk. Danse? Really? Was that the best she could do? He meant well, but usually he was about as subtle as a train wreck. And not exactly good with emotional stuff. Luckily another voice answered.

“What can a sexy ex-spy do for the prettiest girl in the commonwealth?”

Well, at least he was better than Danse.

“Just get over to my office ASAP. We’ve got a little . . . emotional trouble.”

They were there surprisingly fast, having taken the Railroad’s vertibird, and soon Danse was bursting through the door. He might be without his power armor, but the man didn’t seem to be able to enter anywhere quietly, unless it was for a mission. Deacon crept in behind him, all smiles, until he saw Jet’s red, tear-stained face. He looked immediately toward Piper, then exchanged nervous glances with Danse. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. Danse was first to approach, sitting beside her and rubbing calming circles on her back.

“What happened here?”

Piper chewed her lip nervously. “She sorta . . . told Nick she was in love with him.” The eyes of both men grew wide, and she continued. “And, well, he told her . . . he told her he didn’t even have real feelings. Just “memories of feelings” that weren’t even his.”

Deacon winced. “Ouch.”

Danse started at Piper for a few seconds before opening his mouth. 

“The man is an idiot.”

Deacon and Piper looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Danse scowled at them, looking between the two of them and Jet.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe any of this is funny. This woman has just had her heart broken by a man who was lucky enough to have her fall in love with him.”

“Yeah, but Danse,” Deacon said, “that kind of talk is just so unlike you! I mean, I’m not saying it’s not true, I just didn’t think you, of all people, would be the one to say it.”

“You think I don’t know heartbreak? Or feelings?”

Something about the look in his eyes when he said that, coupled with the way he turned to Jet to soothe her again, had Deacon and Piper looking at each other uncomfortably. This was turning out to be . . . interesting, to say the least. Jet loved Nick, and Danse loved Jet, and Nick said that he didn’t even feel anything like love. Damn.

Deacon moved around to take the floor to the other side of a Jet, and Piper pulled a chair in front of her. For a minute or two, no one spoke at all. Then Deacon placed a hand on Jet’s denim-clad knee.

“Look boss, we all know what the robot said isn’t exactly true. I mean, I’ve only known a Nick a little while, and he’s shown more kindness and compassion in that time than I’ve ever shown in my life.”

“Deacon’s right, as much as I hate to admit it,” added Piper. “I’ve known Nicky a long while, and he’s probably the most caring person in the commonwealth.”

Jet looked up at the two of them. “You think I don’t know that? But why would he have said it if it’s wasn’t true, unless he really didn’t care about me?”

Piper took Jet’s hand in her own. “Maybe he was scared. I mean, isn’t it scary when someone tells you they love you? Thrilling, sure. But scary, too. And I’m human. God knows what it must be like for Nick. Man lives that long, wrapped up in somebody else’s memories, not sure where he begins and someone else ends, it‘ll do something to you. When you add all the time the whole damn commonwealth droned on and on about how horrible synths were, and how Nick’s all beat up and torn, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture.”

“Piper’s right. I mean, hell, humans have plenty of insecurities. It only makes sense that anything else with consciousness would, too.” Deacon patted her shoulder.

There were a few minutes of relative silence, when Piper could see the muscles in Danse’s jaw working. He looked like he was either holding back from saying something, or was ready to punch someone. Maybe both. When he finally looked like he was either going to break teeth or explode, he jumped up, pacing furiously to the wall and back before kneeling in front of Jet and taking her hand in his.

“I only know one thing for certain right now, and that’s that I’d be dead without you. Either by my own hand, or by the hand of some random brotherhood soldier thinking he was doing the right thing. You might be the savior of the commonwealth, but you are so much more than that, and you deserve better than being cast aside this way. We are going to go and find Detective Valentine,” he spit the last words, full of venom, “and we are going to find out exactly what the hell is going on. If he’s foolish enough to give you up, to break your heart, I swear to you, I’ll beat him to hell and back with my own two hands.”

Jet looked up at him, giving him a small smile. Danse might be a hopeless idiot when it came to some things, but she knew that he meant every work he said. He didn’t have it in him to be dishonest, he had too much integrity. It was part of his charm. She looked up at the three of them, her best friends, a part of the large family she’d come to develop since coming out of the vault. She’d happily die for them, any one of them, if it came to that, and she knew they felt the same. With a small laugh, she got to her feet.

“Guess we’re all going on a road trip.”


End file.
